Among many animals, especially sea-lions, the mortality of the young, resulting from carelessness or clumsiness on the part of the parent, is very great; but it is very rarely, if ever, that a baby elephant is killed or injured. This is true in the great herds when they are stampeded by various enemies. When on the march, the mothers and young go in advance; but when the note of alarm is sounded, they immediately fall back, the tuskers, or males, going to the front; and an observer at this time would be astonished at the sudden disappearance of the young. At the first alarm, they run to their mother, and place themselves beneath her, shuffling along in this way; yet so careful are these enormous parents, that even in travelling at a rapid rate, and crowded by one another, the babies are never harmed. To this great care on the part of elephants is, undoubtedly, due the safety of men who handle these animals; the great brutes being instinctively careful of all smaller attendants.
In wild Asiatic elephants, the greatest number of births are during September, October, and November. When a baby elephant is added to the herd, they remain about the mother for two or three days, to give the little one an opportunity to gain strength. The greatest care is given the youngsters by the mothers. They are assisted over rough places, pushed up hills, and are never an encumbrance to the movements of the body.
Perhaps the most amusing sight is witnessed when a herd with young have to swim deep streams. When the mothers are once off bottom, very little of their great bodies shows above the surface; and they often swim or walk with only the tip of the trunk showing. If the infant is very young, or there is danger of its taking cold, the old one takes it in her trunk, and holds it above the water as she swims: others are supported at the surface. Older babies scramble upon the mother’s back, and ride along with only the curious cushions of their feet in the water; while some sit astride the old one’s back, holding on with their legs.
The baby elephant does not lack courage. Sir Emerson Tennent states that once when a herd of elephants was captured, two tiny elephants were entrapped with them,—one about ten months old, whose head was covered with brown curly hair, and the other a little older. They both kept with the herd, trotting in and out between the legs of their elders, being caressed by all. According to the same writer, when the mother of the youngest was singled out by the noosers, and was dragged along, the little one followed, showing great indignation at the proceedings, and prevented them from putting a second noose over the mother; running in between her and the natives, trying to seize the rope, and pushing and striking them with its diminutive trunk, until it became so annoying that it had to be captured and carried away by main force. Even then it resisted, shrieking loudly, stopping to look back at every step; but finally it attached itself to a large female, and stood by her fore-legs, and moaned continually. After a while, however, it made its escape, and returned to its dam; and when recovered, both babies shrieked lustily, struck at the men with their trunks, and twisted their little bodies into many curious contortions.
Perhaps the most laughable part of this scene was, that the babies would eagerly seize any article of food that was thrown them, and still keep on screaming all the while they were eating.
These interesting infants were afterwards sent down to Colombo, to the house of Sir Emerson Tennent, and became great pets. “One,” he says, “attached himself especially to the coachman, who had a little shed erected for him near his own quarters at the stables. But his favorite resort was the kitchen, where he received a daily allowance of milk and plantains, and picked up several little delicacies besides. He was innocent and playful in the extreme; and, when walking in the grounds, he would trot up to me, twine his little trunk around my arm, and coax me to take him to the fruit-trees. In the evening the grass-cutters, now and then, indulged him by permitting him to carry home a load of fodder for the horses, on which occasions he assumed an air of great gravity that was highly amusing, showing that he was deeply impressed with the importance and responsibility of the service intrusted to him. Being sometimes permitted to enter the dining-room, and helped to fruit at dessert, he at last learned his way to the sideboard; and on more than one occasion, having stolen in during the absence of the servants, he made a clean sweep of the wineglasses and china, in his endeavors to reach a basket of oranges. For these and other pranks, we were at last obliged to put him away.”
CHAPTER XV.
TRICK ELEPHANTS.
The readiness of the elephant to familiarize itself with various tricks has been recognized from very early times, and the list of accomplishments which these unwieldy creatures have acquired is a long and interesting one. To the circus of the present day, the elephant is invaluable. People tire of the old jokes of the clown, and of the time-worn bare-back riding, but the elephant possesses a peculiar fascination; and, the more it is observed, the more there is to admire. This was, I think, particularly true of Jumbo, who, though he had no tricks to display, was a never-failing source of interest. I remember on one occasion, when afforded an opportunity of entering his stable alone, I stood for a long time noting the monotonous, pendulum-like movement of the enormous head and trunk as it swayed from side to side; and so huge did he appear, and withal so wonderful, such a giant of flesh and bone, that I could have extended my visit a long time without becoming wearied with its monotony. I think this is true to a great extent with all elephants. They are so wonderful and stupendous, that they do not wear upon the public patience.